with an unseen foe. Max spent hours in hunting them; but the mosquitoes hid themselves cunningly, and could seldom be found. Never was such a tiresome, unpleasant August! Before the last day came, our children quite hated him, in spite of his beautiful face and rich, strange garments. He was a cruel, bad fellow, they said;—they never wished to see him again.
That closing evening was hot as ever. The sun went down red and lurid. As the children sat side by side in the door-way, watching the long level beams stream through the Forest, Max caught a distant glimpse of August, pausing and glancing back, as for a last view of the cottage. Max touched Thekla's arm to make her look. At that moment August raised his hand as in mocking gesture of farewell, and turned to go. Another figure met his as he moved away. They stopped, embraced, then August vanished; and with slow, gliding steps his companion advanced. It was September,—a noble, matronly form, with dark-flushed, stormy brow, frank smiling
